Companions
by Salkiethia
Summary: A young Entreri has several choices to make when he encounters and unexpected visitor in his room the night after completing a job. Who is this elf and what does he want with the assassin? Probably permenantly on hold.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own anything that R.A. Salvatore made. If I did, do you think I'd be sitting in front of my computer typing my little fingers to the bone just to amuse myself? No - I'd be out there making the BIG bucks!

WARNING: Yes, this is a **_slash_** fic. That's male/male, folks. If you have a prob with it, don't read it. Flames (depending how interesting and unique they are) will either be disregarded or laughed at.

Author's Note: Well, this thing just popped into my head one day and I decided I'd see what people thought of it. This story is about a young Entreri - around eighteen or nineteen years old. That should explain the slight OOC-ness of him, because he hasn't quite grown into the regal assassin that encounters Drizzt.

* * *

He opened the door to his room and walked in, already tired from the day's events. Even tired, though, Entreri's sharpened senses noted something quite out of place in his room. His eyes flickered around the room, and then rested on a bundle of rags of various shades of gray, curled up on the floor a few feet from the foot of his bed. 

Entreri walked into his room and nudged the side of the bundle with his boot. It recoiled from the touch and a head lifted up. Entreri was surprised, surely, but he had the emotion well hidden. The face looking up at him – he knew it to be an elven lad easily enough. That in itself was surprising for why would an elf be in his room?

What the assassin's eyes were really drawn to, however, were not the peaked ears identifying the intruder, or the slightly dazed look in those large crystal eyes. A big, purpling bruise caught Entreri's immediate attention. It looked as though someone had attempted to strangle the elven lad.

Entreri paused, wondering what to do with this unexpected occurrence. He could kill the elf, of course, but he would prefer not to – at least for the time being.

Something seemed to click in the elf at that moment and he threw himself at Entreri.

The assassin had his dagger out and was ready for an attack. Instead of an attack, however, the elf flung his arms around Entreri and began to cry silently, his face buried in the assassin's shoulder. For once in his life, Entreri was at a complete and total loss. He resheathed the jeweled dagger carefully. Then, he attempted to pry the elf off of him. It didn't work.

Entreri was fairly certain that if there had been a little space between them he could have easily twisted out of the elf's grip. However, in a situation like this one – well, it wouldn't be quite as easy as that. Instead of twisting the elven arms off him, Entreri twisted his own arms around behind his head to catch hold of his visitor's wrists. The positioning was quite uncomfortable. Entreri's arms protested their contorting vehemently. But he got the hold he needed to peel the elf off him.

Entreri held him out at arm's length, noting everything about him from the tangled hair and lost gaze to his rag-tag clothing and slightly unhealthy look. Entreri frowned. From what little he knew of elves – and admittedly, it was _very_ little – this condition was not normal. Even more so, he surmised, was the frightened look of a wounded animal intermingled with some other, less discernible emotion. The assassin didn't like what he saw, in short.

The elf's trembling hadn't ceased – to the contrary, it had increased. Entreri's hands on the elf's shoulders were the only things keeping him on his feet. Almost as if on cue, the elf swooned and Entreri only just moved quickly enough to catch him and keep him from cracking his head open on the edge of the bed.

Supporting the fragile creature in his arms, Entreri let his eyes flicker towards the door, still open. No one was there. Good. The assassin considered his burden for a long moment. For what he was about to do, he figured it would be best to leave the elf here. Unceremoniously, Entreri dumped the elf onto the bed.

He was halfway to the door when he heard a stifled sob and turned around to see the elf, looking at him, crystal eyes wide open. His lips moved but no sound came out.

Entreri whirled about, left the room, pulled the door shut and locked it. From now on he was always going to lock his doors, the assassin promised himself. He didn't want any more uninvited visitors.

The assassin's measured steps brought him to the main room of the inn – the one that doubled as a tavern during the day and partway into the night. He spotted the innkeeper, speaking with a pair of men who looked like street toughs. Entreri walked up anyway and gave the innkeeper an appraising look.

"I had an uninvited guest in my room," he said icily. "Is there so little room available here that you dump any new guests in with old ones?"

The innkeeper opened his mouth and shut it. He blinked once or twice. Entreri kept his cold gaze fixed on the man the whole time. The innkeeper rubbed sweaty palms against his shirt hem and opened his mouth again. "'E said 'e knew ya," the man answered, his voice trembling a bit. It was rather obvious that he was nervous around Entreri, but then again, who wasn't?

The assassin smiled to himself. He replied softly, "Do you even know who _he_ is?"

The innkeeper nodded and seemed on even ground once again. "Oh, aye," he answered a little offhandedly. "That there, 'e's Terrin. Claimed 'e was tha son o' one o' tha elf kings an' wanted a taste o' mortal life fer a change. Rather queer lad, 'e is." The innkeeper shrugged. "'E insisted 'e knew ya. Said 'I know Artemis Entreri. I know 'im'so I says to 'im, well ya may be knowin' 'im an' mebbie not. So 'e asked which room yer t' be staying' in an' I told 'im."

Entreri noticed that the man refused to meet his eyes as he told his story and chuckled nervously at the end.

"And?" he pressed eyes dangerous.

The innkeeper looked shocked. "An' what? 'E found yer room, I'm ter be guessin', otherwise why'd ya be here askin', right?"

Entreri had had enough of this man's babbling. "What about the bruises on his neck?" he asked casually – too casually. Even as the question came out, he was fingering the hilt of his dagger.

The innkeeper's face paled noticeably. "B-bruises?" he stuttered. "D-didn't s-see no b-bruises on 'im, t' b-be sure –" He stopped speaking right away when the assassin pulled out the weapon.

I grow weary of your ill-prepared excuses," he said softly. "Tell me – what hurt the elf?"

The innkeeper mumbled something under his breath too softly for even Entreri to hear.

"So I can hear you," commanded the assassin.

"I did," the innkeeper said a little louder. "Wasn't doin' 'is work – shirker-like, ya know?" He rambled on in the same vein for sometime, Entreri nodding at appropriate intervals until the innkeeper believed he'd satisfied the assassin. Then he turned to leave.

Entreri caught him by the shoulder. "Is there someone to inherit this lovely place?" he asked in a falsely sincere voice.

Not picking up on the game, the innkeeper nodded. "M' nephew –" he began, but Entreri cut off his words. Cut them off at the tip of a dagger.

To the corpse, Entreri replied, "Then I hope your nephew is in town." He cleaned his dagger on the front of the man's shirt, ignoring the stares he was collecting from the other patrons. With an abrupt turn, Entreri stalked back to the stairs and silently ascended to his room – still locked. He pulled out the key and unlocked the door.

To his surprise, the elf – Terrin, if the innkeeper was to be believed – was in the same position he'd been in when Entreri had left. Odd. Distinctly odd. Entreri came up to the side of the bed. Terrin's eyes followed him the whole way. They were still wide and fearful, but that fear seemed to be tempered by another emotion the assassin could not put a name to. In short, the elf's face was glowing with hero-worship.

It made Entreri uncomfortable. He wasn't in his line of work to be worshiped, after all. Let the priests of obscure cults deal with that sort of thing. Entreri himself would take a bout with swords over worship of any deity any day.

They stayed like that for quite a while, Entreri squirming under the pure adoration and awe rolling off the elf with those crystal eyes fixed right on his own. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the elf blinked. Entreri was released. He shook his head a bit to clear it. He didn't want this creature in his room any longer than necessary.

He made a move toward the elf – and registered acute shock when he was faced with his own dagger, warding him back in the elf's hands. How had the elf gotten a hold of it? Entreri had to wonder. He checked the sheath where he kept his weapon and discovered it empty. So it wasn't a cleverly done illusion.

He reached forward with both hands, securing a grasp on both of Terrin's wrists with one – the elf was by far and large too damn skinny Entreri decided – and plucked the blade carefully from the loosened grasp with the other.

Terrin didn't overtly fight Entreri, but neither did he relinquish the weapon as quickly as the assassin could have wished. Finally he got the damn dagger back – _without_ letting its blade touch either the elf or himself – and placed it in its respective home.

Part of the assassin was severely annoyed by this problem that had dumped itself on his lap. The other part, while not really pleased, exactly, was quite intrigued by this elf.

Entreri thought longingly of resting his legs by sitting (he'd been standing most of the day!), but instead backed up a few paces to lean casually on the wall. He cast yet another glance at the door before regarding Terrin again. "What is your name?" he inquired evenly. His tone wasn't the soft threat-voice he usually spoke in. It was more of a natural tone, slightly musical – low tenor perhaps.

The elf opened his mouth and a jumble of sounds came tumbling out. It sounded something like 'Terinistellientalier' but Entreri wasn't quite sure. He was relieved when the elf lowered his crystal gaze to his hands and whispered, "Most call me Terrin."

Entreri cocked an eyebrow. "With I name like that, I'm not very surprised," he remarked. "It's a wonder the bearer of such a long name can remember it; to expect casual acquaintances to as well is quite close to insanity." A slight flush rose in the elf's cheeks, as though those words evoked some unwanted thought.

"So," the assassin continued, still in that slightly musical voice, "you are Terrin." The elf flinched noticeably. Entreri ignored it. "Now, _Terrin_ –" again he flinched and the assassin had to restrain himself from reaching out and shaking him until his teeth rattled. "What are you doing here? You told the innkeeper you knew me. I want to know what you want." He paused before adding, "Usually I don't find visitors passed out on my floor."

The elf was trembling, Entreri noted with passing interest. He'd probably been shaking through the whole encounter. He opened his mouth and closed it again. Opened and closed, like a fish out of water. Just when Entreri was considering using brute force to make him speak, the elf burst out a rather jumbled narrative. It took several minutes to tell, lengthened some – what with Terrin's habit of flinching slightly every now and again.

Ever attentive, the assassin made careful note of the fact that Terrin flinched whenever he mentioned the innkeeper. He stored that tidbit away, possibly for later use.

At the end of the narrative, Entreri had garnered several key bits of information. First, this elf was – or had been, rather – terrified of the innkeeper for some reason. Second, Terrin had absolutely no contact with any of his kin at all, or even elves in general. Last, Entreri noted that his original question – what Terrin was doing here in the first place – had gone entirely unanswered. Once again he asked the question. Once again his query was delicately side-stepped.

Not infuriated, but surely frustrated, Entreri put the issue aside for now. He was tired. "Do you have anywhere you're supposed to be?" he asked.

Terrin looked up, surprise and panic playing across his face. "N-no! Please –" he said quickly.

Entreri nodded for the elf to go on when he faltered.

"I – well, I mean," Terrin faltered. The assassin waited for the elf to get sorted out. "I _knew_ you," Terrin said softly. "I just couldn't keep away that feeling so I asked Barlon where you were rooming. He looked at me really funny – mad and scared at the same time. Then – then –" Terrin rubbed a hand along his collar bone and neck.

Entreri guessed he was referring to the bruises he'd collected from the innkeeper. He nodded and Terrin gulped noticeably but went on.

"I came here, like he said," the elf told Entreri. "Barlon said not to disturb anyone if I valued my 'pretty face'." Terrin made a face at that. "Not so pretty a face anyway," he muttered under his breath.

"And?" Entreri prompted, pretending he hadn't caught that last bit.

"So I came here and waited for you, but I must have fallen or something…" he trailed off and looked slightly embarrassed as well as confused. It wasn't hard for Entreri to put the pieces togther. Likely the elf was a servant of some sort here to the innkeeper. Judging from the elf's scrawny appearance and sudden collapses, the assassin also judged that he was malnourished and very weak. Not a good combination when taverns and 'pretty faces' were mixed in.

Drunk, it might not be all that difficult to mistake the elf for a female, Entreri mused. The long hair and big eyes would further add to that impression if the viewer was heavily enough imbued with alcohol or ignorant of elves. The features that struck Entreri as decidedly masculine were not really all that obvious to a casual observer.

The elf began speaking again and Entreri locked his gaze on those crystal eyes. They stared back, creating a hypnotic atmosphere in the room. It lulled both of them into an abstract feeling. Entreri, the heartless assassin would not have recognized it. Terrin, the elf raised among tavern scum and killers could not either, though he felt the change in the room. Words floated out of his mouth, spoken softly.

_"I know you… But who are you?"_

It broke the feeling instantly – sent it fleeing from the place light a frightened deer. The words shattered the perfection like a mirror struck in the center by a fine blade. Entreri caught himself. He'd been one split second away from moving forward – taking that critical step into the elf's domain.

Now he paused instead, hearing Terrin's question echo in his head. It was not doubt possible the elf had heard of him. His reputation was wide-spread, after all. The question though, that question was bringing a few question to Entreri's mind as well as putting him on full alert. He wasn't sure he approved of this elf questioning him at all. "What do you mean 'Who are you'?" the assassin replied harshly. He didn't even notice Terrin flinch back away at the tone of his voice. "I am Artemis Entreri. You knew that – still know it. The most important question now, I believe is where are you going to go?"

Terrin blanched. "You're sending me out?" he asked in a pitiful whisper, clutching at the graying rags that served him as clothing.

Impatient, the assassin shook his head. "No, I'm not. I just happen to be very tired and too lazy to find you a place to go besides here." He eyed the floor doubtfully. It would make an uncomfortable night, he knew and for a very brief moment he entertained notions of letting the elf sleep on the bed. With a half snarl that was directed mainly at nothing, Entreri pulled the covers off the bed and arranged them neatly on the floor to form a sort of 'nest' for Terrin to sleep in.

"There," he said, pointing to the blankets. "That should do you for tonight." _And I'll get rid of you in the morning when I can think,_ he added silently to himself. Carelessly the assassin threw himself down onto the bed and pulled off his boots – the only article he removed before turning over to sleep.

Distantly he heard Terrin settling himself down as well and wondered how on earth he'd ended up with an elf in the room at all. The story of the elf being here was obviously incomplete, Entreri could see. Well, he'd think about it in the morning, he decided with an air of finality. It would be easier to think then. Perhaps a good night's sleep might help him shed a new light on the situation.

And so Entreri fell asleep. Not for the slightest instant in all of his musings did he even think about the possibility of the elf harming him. Maybe it was Terrin's appearance – so scared and helpless looking. Maybe it had been because the assassin really was too tired to be thinking clearly. Whatever the reason, Entreri had easily fallen asleep without even making sure he slept lightly – ready to wake at the slightest sound.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: I think I have too much fun doing this. Really. Well, the updates are going to take a while on account on my beta being awesome and looking through everything I write at least a jillion times.

* * *

The sun came up slowly, pouring in through the open window. It bathed the room in a lightly golden hue, evoking the feel of a timeless place. Entreri came awake all at once, taking in his room and the light without a second thought to either. His thoughts were focused on his 'visitor', that elf who still was asleep.

Just by looking at him though, the assassin could tell it was a troubled sleep at best. He debated for a moment whether to wake the elf or not. Then a bell clanged loudly and he didn't have to worry anymore about making a choice.

Terrin sprang to his feet at the sound of the bell and looked around wildly, relaxing only when his eyes lit upon Entreri. For a short moment the assassin wondered if Terrin would throw himself at him again, as he had on their first meeting. Instead of doing that, the elf delicately picked his way towards the assassin and – much to Entreri's relief – did not come any closer than a couple of feet.

A silence stretched rather uncomfortably as the two eyed each other. Finally Terrin broke the stillness with a quick "Good morning," and scampered back to the piled bedclothes. He tugged futilely at them in an attempt to force them into some semblance of order. For a moment Entreri just watched. Then he rose to his feet and went over to Terrin – currently wrestling with the thick, bulky quilt – and helped the outmatched elf fold it.

The assistance made the job complete itself much more quickly than it would have done otherwise and before too long had passed, there was a neatly folded pile of bedclothes stacked at one end of the room.

After the completion of that particular chore, the uncomfortable atmosphere of the room returned and Entreri made for the door. "Are you coming for breakfast?" he inquired of Terrin.

The elf considered the question for a moment before shaking his head. He would have pressed the matter, but he didn't know what the elf's reaction would be. As he closed the door and headed for the steps, Entreri had to wonder why he cared. True, last night had been a most eventful night because of his unexpected visitor, but that did not explain the way the assassin's thoughts kept darting back to circle around Terrin. Entreri dismissed it easily enough and went to find a good breakfast.

He pushed open the door, wondering vaguely if Terrin was still here For some reason he wasn't very surprised to find the elf lying curled up under the window sill, sleeping. At least, Entreri assumed he was asleep. There were, of course, darker possibilities. He could be dead, unconscious, planning murder… That last one had him shaking his head. No, Entreri had come to the conclusion that Terrin would not murder him in his sleep. If he'd planned on doing that, last night would have been a perfect opportunity.

Much to his own chagrin, while he was out for food, Entreri had played over the events of the previous night in his mind and come to a startling conclusion. He had fallen into a real sleep last nigh, even with Terrin in the room. The hazy nighttime pictures that he associated with the half-sleeping awareness usual of 'sleep' had been replaced with a real dream – probably the first in years. However, its subject matter sorely confused the assassin. Who dreamed about watching grass grow, anyway?

Watching the rhythmic rise and fall of Terrin's frail body made Entreri growl silently. Whatever the damn elf said to the contrary, he needed to eat! The few apples Entreri had picked up would suffice for now, but sooner or later the assassin planned on stuffing real food into the elf.

Carefully Entreri shut the door and strode over to the bed, careful not to make much of a noise of any kind. He didn't want to wake Terrin. The elf probably was sleep-deprived as well as malnourished. And, Entreri decided, he needed to do something with that bird's nest of hair. It was matted in places, snarls adorned it like beads and the color was dull.

He frowned for a moment wondering where he might e able to find a brush to work out the worst of it. A face came to mind then, that of a young lady who'd been in the inn's main room last night on his search for the innkeeper. She'd been holding a brush.

Again the assassin rose to his feet and left the room. He was fairly certain that he knew where the young lady would be housed and he trusted in his skills to appropriate the brush – just for a little while.

The brush firmly in hand, Entreri strode back into his room to find Terrin, seated cross-legged by the window singing softly. He stopped abruptly at the assassin's entry and scrambled to his feet.

"Come here," Entreri ordered. Terrin slunk forward like a whipped cur. Entreri ignored it. Instead of reacting, he propelled the elf firmly but gently to the edge of the bed and made him sit down. Then Entreri sat next to him and lifted a chunk of ratty hair in one hand. "We need to do something about the state this is in," he informed Terrin.

The elf squirmed a little under the intensity of Entreri's gaze.

"Just hold still and I'll try to keep from hurting you." With tentative strokes of the brush, Entreri began to set Terrin's hair back into its proper order. It was not an easy business. The assassin suspected that the elf had never brushed his hair at all. There were terrible tangles that took an hour or so to undo and vicious snarls that resembled knotted balls of yarn rather than fine hair.

After a few hours of the battle with Terrin's hair, Entreri set down the brush. The elf was by no means immaculate now. He still had hair bearing obvious signs of neglect and ill care, but the worst had been fixed and the assassin was a bit too tense to continue. He wanted a break, and from the look on Terrin's face, the elf welcomed the end as well.

Entreri found the bag of apples and thrust one into Terrin's hands without asking whether or not he wanted it. Terrin stared at the fruit in feigned distaste and tried to hand it back. Entreri shook his head. "Eat it," he prompted. Terrin shook his head. Entreri, tired of the elf's poor cooperation resorted to a threat. He pulled out his dagger and pointed it lazily at Terrin. "Now see here," he said slowly and clearly. "If you do not eat that apple, I will have to hurt you. And," he glanced at the window, "it really seems to be too lovely a day for killing."

Terrin went white at that, but then caught the hint of a real smile flitting across Entreri's face and tentatively smiled back. The assassin motioned once again for Terrin to eat the apple and this time the elf dove in without any hesitation.

As he watched Terrin devour the apple – core, stem and all – Entreri found himself making plans for the ensured well-being of the elf. More surprising still, the assassin noted with a bit of panic that he kept thinking of Terrin as being 'his' elf. He shook the jittery feeling that thought gave him and focused instead on Terrin who was licking his fingers, all traces of the apple entirely vanished.

A second apple was offered and again Terrin refused, but this time Entreri didn't press the matter. Instead of making the elf eat, he put the fruit back in the bag he'd pulled it out of and relaxed, leaning back on the bed. It'd been a long time – too long – since the last time he'd just been able to sit around for a while and relax.

A few thought nagged at Entreri, reminding him of several questions he'd meant to ask earlier. In some way he'd picked up the idea that Terrin would be coming with him when he left for Calimport in two or three days. He wasn't quite sure where that particular notion had come from, but judging by the still-hero worship that rolled off the elf, if the assassin asked, Terrin would comply. It could be useful, Entreri recognized. There were many potential gains for himself, at least.

He closed his eyes and though carefully about how he would phrase that particular request. It needed to have just the right inflections. His invitation would _not_ be perceived as a weakness or a desire for company. It _would_ be taken as a mutually beneficial partnership. Well, he would work on that question later, Entreri decided. He didn't really want to be thinking about specifics and inflections on a day like today. Instead, he selected a few other queries from his ever-growing list.

"Can you use any sort of weapon?"

Terrin jumped – Entreri felt the slight tension of his muscles.

"I – I – well, yes," he stammered. "At least, a little."

Entreri rolled over onto his stomach. "Good," he said, sitting up to look Terrin right in the eye. "Because you and I are going to spar right now with our weapons of choice. I want to see what kind of a fighter you are, elf."

Terrin stumbled through a disclaimer of some sort.

Entreri ignored him. "I favor the saber and dagger," he told the elf clearly. "Your weapon of choice would be?" He left the question hanging in the air. Terrin gaped at him. Again Entreri repeated the question.

The elf looked down at his toes. "I can shoot a bow fine," he said sulkily. "I use the dirk well enough, too," he added hesitantly.

Entreri nodded approval. "One hand or both?"

"Better with one but capable of both."

"Do you have one with you?"

"No."

"Then we'll just have to get one, won't we, then?" Entreri, if he bothered to admit it to himself – of course, he didn't – was finding himself captivated by this as of yet unmeasured foe and possible companion. If he proved a good enough fighter, Entreri decided, he'd take him along to Calimport. There were plenty of jobs requiring more than one worker to get done cleanly.

"Meet me outside in an hour," Entreri instructed. "By the entrance to the inn. I'm going to find you a dirk," he told the surprised elf, "and then take a measure of your fighting abilities. If you refuse to go through with this," he began a bit ominously, but then Terrin cut him off with a shake of his head, resigned as it was.

"Good. See you in an hour."


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: I have to say, this one is my favorite chapter so far. Maybe I'm praising myself unduly. Let me know! Enjoy reading this.

* * *

Where was one to go to purchase a dirk, Entreri wondered for the third time. He had been out here nearly half of the span of time he'd allotted for himself and still had not found one weapon even vaguely resembling a dirk – for sale or…otherwise.

Frowning, Entreri went up to yet another possible place to find the weapon and again left. Nothing. He was pondering if he might be able to secure a dagger instead for his companion when a very drunk man made the mistake of shoving the assassin. He was dead before he could blink twice. Entreri pulled his dagger out of the man's heart and casually wiped it against the man's tunic.

He noticed the weapon's belt the drunk had been wearing and unbuckled it, deciding to take it with him. He'd found a dirk for Terrin. Or actually, 0 the assassin counted the weapons as he walked away. Entreri had found a pair of dirks, a rapier, seven short daggers all with their own sheaths, and a pouch of coins.

The assassin pondered the wisdom of keeping the weapons belt in its entirety. He came to a compromise.

A few minutes later yet another drunkard was tottering around, wearing a weapons belt missing two daggers, both dirks and the contents of the coin purse.

Entreri came back to the inn right on schedule and found Terrin there. He looked the elf up and down, quickly assessing his adversary's capabilities by sight alone. The elf looked frail. For a moment Entreri considered the idea of putting the competition off another few days but – no. He needed to know if he should bring Terrin with him at all.

He handed over the two weapons he'd taken that fit Terrin's hand best. The two daggers he'd hidden in his own boots, silently promising to give Terrin one of them if he did take the elf to Calimport.

The two of them walked out back and began stretching to loosen up before the bout. Entreri took careful measure of Terrin during that time, as he made lazy passes at the open air. Terrin seemed to favor his left side over his right; Entreri caught that right away. His footwork was good. Now to see how well all that added up.

"Ready?" Entreri asked. Terrin nodded and the assassin got ready to either charge or be charged. Then Terrin made a strange move. He placed his left blade back into its sheath and rolled the lone dirk around in his right hand. For a moment Entreri wondered if the elf had given up before the fight had begun. With his saber, the assassin could easily reach the elf and Terrin's shorter weapon would be no closer to Entreri for his efforts.

Then Terrin came on.

Entreri recognized a difference in this elf from any other opponent he'd ever battled. Terrin didn't really look at Entreri while he fought. Instead, he seemed to be involved in a sort of moving meditation. His crystal eyes were unfocused and there was absolutely no expression on his face.

The assassin logged that information away for later use and sped up his attack routine, wanting to see how his opponent would respond. Terrin still hadn't taken the offensive yet.

Entreri's sword slashed in, perfectly in line with the elf's torso. Terrin dropped under it and thrust ahead blindly with his dirk at the same time, forcing Entreri to jump back. With incredible strength and agility, Terrin snapped his feet back under himself and sprung forward, his weapon leading the way. Entreri countered with his dagger and held the lone weapon out wide while swinging his sword around in a swift move that whistled right in front of Terrin's face as the elf scrambled to disengage.

Once again the blades came together. Entreri provided an opening on purpose, wanting to see the elf's offensive style. It might as well not have been there at all for how completely Terrin ignored it. Sword and dagger launched in together, catching Terrin's one blade up high. Then Entreri pulled his dagger from the mix and drove it forward, right at Terrin's chest.

There was no way he could miss, and though he lamented the loss of a partner, nothing would stay his hand now. Or, almost nothing.

Steel rang against steel and Entreri paused for a critical instant, seeing a dirk in Terrin's left hand. He'd forgotten the elf's second weapon almost entirely! When Entreri pulled back from the locked stalemate, he had a bit more respect for the unorthodox elf.

At once, when he closed with Terrin again, Entreri noticed the slight problem the elf was having in wielding his blades. At first he thought maybe he'd have to kill Terrin after all – for being such a clumsy fighter – but then he noted a few other things: the slight stumble and slowing of movement. The glazed eyes and sweat. He'd overstepped his bounds, the assassin thought and was proved right a few seconds later as Terrin passed out.

Entreri had been expecting something like it though so he was ready for the elf to collapse. His weapons were returned to their sheaths before Terrin's legs even finished giving out under him, and he caught the elf easily. While supporting Terrin with one hand, Entreri used his other to catch the dirks he flipped into the air with his foot and replaced them in their rightful places. Then, he carried the unconscious elf back into the inn and up to his room.

Gently he put Terrin on the bed and sat down next to him, meaning only to rest for a bit but actually falling asleep himself on the bed next to Terrin.

He awoke all at once, as usual. But, instead of a ceiling, he saw a face looking slightly concerned, leaning over hi. It took a second for Entreri to put a name to the face. Then – "What in hell are you doing Terrin?"

Terrin's eyes had a strange light in them that extinguished as soon as Entreri spoke. He recoiled swiftly, a little hurt evident in his eyes. Entreri sat up and ignored the emotion that he spotted in the elf's crystal gaze.

"What," he repeated slowly, "in hell were you doing, Terrin?"

Terrin grimaced. "I don't know," he said, not looking at the assassin now.

"You don't know."

"No, I don't," Terrin snapped, his ire aimed at the floor. Entreri considered punishing the elf for his impudent tone, but decided against it. When Terrin truly became too big for his britches perhaps the assassin would cut him down. Not now, when he struck out with words only.

Instead, Entreri kicked off his boots and arranged himself comfortably on the bed. Terrin was still standing at the side, having not moved at all, even to lift his gaze from the floor.

"Sit down," Entreri commanded. Terrin looked at him – startled, but then gingerly perched on the side of the bed. "You have a rather strange combat style," the assassin remarked. "I thought I had you when your weapon was locked with my sword."

"You forgot my other one, didn't you?" Terrin asked.

Mutely Entreri nodded a confirmation.

"Mostly that's what saves me when I have to fight," the elf said bitterly. "My weapons aren't designed to be able to kill and armed opponent. I only use the one until I absolutely have to draw the other – usually to injure whoever I'm fighting." There was no pride in Terrin's voice. It was absolutely without emotion.

Entreri sat up, or rather, propped himself up on his arm and watched the elf carefully. "You don't enjoy fighting," the assassin stated bluntly.

Terrin shook his head. "No, it's not that I don't like the feel of my blades or the satisfaction of a good workout," he tried to explain. "I just hate hurting people who – who – " he stopped talking.

"Who what?"

"I just don't like hurting people," Terrin said miserably.

Entreri lifted an eyebrow at the elf's tone. Why miserable and not, say, defensive? It was clear enough that Terrin was hiding something. The assassin ran a hand through his hair. He was leaving for Calimport tomorrow. If Terrin wanted to come, he'd need to explain this – thing – that was bothering him first. And, Entreri added mentally, he'd need to start eating more as well. Strong and quick were all well and good, but they needed to last beyond the initial encounter in a fight.

"What's bothering you?" Entreri asked Terrin. He fully expected the stammering denial Terrin offered and instead of accepting it, sat up and took the elf's shoulders in his hands. "Look at me."

Terrin did – he couldn't ignore the commanding tone of the assassin's voice.

"I'm leaving tomorrow for Calimport." Terrin's look at the news was a mix between incredulity, horror, and intense sorrow. Entreri found himself a little off-balance when confronted with it.

"I meant to ask if you wanted to come," the assassin continued.

Terrin's eyes began to shine at that and he bobbed his head eagerly.

"Well, there's a catch to it."

Terrin paused, looking strangely at Entreri.

The assassin ignored the look. "This is it – several parts actually. First, you need to start eating more. I'm _not_ going to travel with a stick as company. Second, you are going to explain this strange phobia of hurting people. Last," he saw Terrin brace as if already expecting a certain less-than-pleasant set of words to come from Entreri.

"Last," the assassin said stubbornly, "you will decide if you want to work with me in Calimport. There are plenty of jobs that require pairs to get any work done."

Short silence broken only by breathing followed. Then, "That's it?" his voice held a hint of disbelief.

"That's it," Entreri confirmed. "So, you've made it relatively clear that you want to come – what about the requirements?"

Terrin looked Entreri in the eye and the assassin was startled by what he glimpsed in those crystal depths. There was trust there, hope and eagerness and an emotion too elusive to name. As usual, the assassin shrugged it off, brushing them away with the briefest thought about how uncomfortable it must be to carry _emotions_ around.

"I'd like to work with you," Terrin said shyly. "It would be interesting."

More than just interesting, the assassin thought, but he didn't voice the thought. "Do you think you can start eating more, stick?"

"Oh, I think I can manage," Terrin replied cheerfully.

"Now, are you going to explain your phobia?"

Terrin's cheerfulness dropped away immediately. "Do I have to?" His voice was almost too soft to hear. "P-please, I – I'd rather not."

This of course, only piqued Entreri's curiosity. "I told you – I won't take you to Calimport if you don't meet my conditions. I need to understand my partner, Terrin. If we work together, we need to know how to best compliment each other's fighting style and thoughts. I can't do that if I don't understand _you._"

Terrin was trembling. "P-p-promise you w-won't t-tell anyone?" he whispered desperately.

Entreri, still holding that crystal gaze, nodded. Terrin broke the contact he had with Entreri's eyes. This, however the assassin could not allow. He needed to look into Terrin's eyes to fully glean the story from their crystal depths. He tilted Terrin's face up with one hand and their eyes locked again. Terrin took a long shaky breath and began to speak.

"It was a l-long t-time ago," he said softly. Entreri had to strain to hear his voice. "I was re-really young. M-maybe a few years old. I was b-brought here b-by someone – I don't know. It w-was a he, though, I remember. He took me here and told me I was going to live here f-f-forever." The elf's voice broke.

Entreri kept his hold on Terrin's chin, else the elf surely would have looked away. Instead, Terrin's eyes closed and tears rolled down his cheeks. It took a few minutes before he could speak again. Entreri waited patiently. Finally Terrin was ready to talk again.

"Those f-first years weren't so b-bad. He t-took pretty good care of m-me, but then he was g-gone and that other one c-came." Terrin's eyes shut and more hot tears burned trails down his cheeks. He opened his eyes but from how unfocused they were, the assassin could tell Terrin was reliving his tale, at least in part. He whimpered and flinched at irregular intervals. Finally Entreri put his hands on the elf's shoulders and gently shook him to bring him back to the present.

"He _hurt_ me," Terrin said in a harsh whisper. "More than just scars and bruises – he claimed he warped my _soul_." Terrin grimaced again and continued on. "He took me, and his sons too, they did as well before they all left. And then he sold me out, like a mare for rent."

Entreri had guessed at the beginning that he wouldn't like where this was going and he didn't feel any differently now. He wished he hadn't killed the innkeeper – that he'd let him live so he could inflict torment now!

"I'm not proud of it," Terrin said flatly, making Entreri wonder why the elf bothered with the disclaimer. Would anyone be proud of such a past?

"I'm not proud that I'm good at pleasing men too drunk to be able to tell a barmaid from a bull, let alone a woman from a male elf." He laughed bitterly, hiccupping a little. "So now that you know that, the resulting answer to your question should be easily determined; I don't like hurting people because I'm an elf and I was _conditioned_ not to."

He wrenched back, away from Entreri and pulled his legs up to his chin. "I suppose I'll go now," the elf said quietly.

"Why?" Entreri asked.

Terrin's head snapped up. "You – you still want me to come?" he inquired tentatively.

Entreri stood, rolled his shoulders back and looked Terrin straight in the eye. "I was my deal, and I'm keeping to it. I don't see any reason to go back on it unless _you_ want to."

Terrin leapt to his feet in distress. "No-no! I don't want to!" he exclaimed.

Entreri chuckled. "Then that's settled and it's time for bed."

Terrin stiffened until Entreri waved him over to the pile of coverlets that they'd folded that morning. The assassin helped the elf recreate his 'nest' before retiring to his own bed.

He collapsed into it, wondering how in all of Faerun he was so tired when all he'd done that day was a minor bout and steal a few weapons. Those thoughts and questions ceased as sleep invaded the assassin's mind and he dreamed. In the morning, he didn't remember those dreams, but had a peculiar feeling that the centered around Terrin.

He shook the feeling easily enough, woke Terrin and got breakfast into them before ushering the still half-asleep elf out of his room and down the stairs of the inn. Entreri hadn't really been expecting to pick up a new recruit, so he didn't have two horses, but Terrin sat comfortable enough pillion to the assassin.

With the saddlebags behind him, Terrin behind the saddlebags and the elf's arms loosely looped around his waist, Entreri was completely ready to be off. He nudged the unremarkable gelding into an easy walk. He would be back in Calimport within the week. Nothing could possibly disrupt the plan.

So he thought.


End file.
